


(Some) People Just Want to Watch the World Burn

by Alt_reaYoon



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Belial's horny grip was too powerful ugh, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Set during Michael's flashback in 1-1 of WMTSB3: 000, Spoilers for WMTSB3: 000, Very very vague Lucisan, We know the two who "died" didn't actually die ofc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17996642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alt_reaYoon/pseuds/Alt_reaYoon
Summary: “You were so sure the world would sink into nothingness and you’d revel in it with him at your side.” Belial, his Messiah and how it was all for naught (for now).





	(Some) People Just Want to Watch the World Burn

**Author's Note:**

> It's been five (5) years since I wrote fic of any sort and it had to be Belial-related... The plot bunny just wouldn't go away aaaa
> 
> Big thanks to moonflares for checking through this disaster of a drabble and your massive encouragement.

The flames lick the ground around you, pulling you towards its inviting maw. Michael’s gaze – sweet, trusting Michael, you still remember her bright eyes as you led her through the lab’s hallways, explaining the ways of the world – burns you, resentment and hate and regret festering in her ruby eyes.

A passing thought flits through your head – if you could be incinerated there and then from looks alone, you would be.

All this, and yet you feel so incredibly cold.

You wonder why this outcome didn’t occur to you (both of you) then. _He’d_ whispered his plans, inciting rebellion amongst your brethren, even bringing in that black hooded figure you both hated into this secret plot. You were so sure you would make it.

You were so sure the world would collapse, sink into nothingness, and you’d revel in it with _him_ at your side.

Alas, _his_ greatest creation – and you think this bitterly, as much as _he’d_ revered the other six-winged archangel, the Supreme Primarch – had not been as much of a fool as he’d seemed. The veil lifted from his emotionless eyes, he’d struck out first, quickly, brutally.

(Maybe it hadn’t been so clever to bring Lucifer’s heir into the fray, but you couldn’t help the smug elation that welled up inside you when you told him you’d let him know if his “little pet Sandy” survived.)

You can’t forget seeing _his_ corpse, head severed from shoulders, in a pool of blood and papers. It was all you could do to save his crown, stow it away in secret before the four converged on you.

The flames burn closer, and you’re starting to feel the heat a bit more. You vaguely hear her scream at you – “Why,” she cries, “What happened to you?” – and you laugh, at her shortcomings, her blind devotion to Lucifer and her belief in you.

You’re the Archangel of Cunning, and you’ve always lived and breathed for _him_ , after all.

As she finally lays down Lucifer’s judgement, you call her a puppy, waiting for a treat after performing a new trick, following their master’s every word.

Fire searing through flesh while your core remains ice-cold (because Lucilius is gone and you’ll soon be too), it doesn't occur to you that you’re the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback would really be appreciated - it's my first time writing any of them and I've no idea if I even got their voices right.


End file.
